


Ingonyama Ilele

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 03:14:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John dreams of lions and jungles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ingonyama Ilele

Two moons hung high in the night sky. Two moons and a moon's moon, technically, but it was really hard to see the pink pygmy through the trees. John felt it easier to just pretend it didn’t exist.

How long had he been wandering through this freakish forest? The air smelled weird, the plants were off color and the animals were all wrong. Like that? What was that? That was the result of some evil union of a bull and a botfly, no doubt. John shook his fist at the thing. It let out a high-pitched moo and started to buzz towards him. No! That's the opposite of what was meant to happen. Just before it got within a few meters of him the bull-fly-thing seemed to, without explanation, vanish. One moment it was there, and with a brief rustling of the trees it was gone. John suppressed a primal shudder and continues his trek through the woods.

Where had he come from? Where was he going? These were questions that once more reared their ugly head. This was Cirque du Soleil all over again, only with less prescription drugs, no angry rednecks and a distinct lack of Truckasaurus, for which John is eternally grateful and did that bush just move?

John froze midstep, and turned to stare at the suspicious shrubbery. There was a muffled crunch, and something wet struck John in the chest, something wet and bony. Dripping with nervous curiosity, John turned the object over in his hands.

The bloody tinkerbull head stared up at him with dead eyes.

With calm, collected understanding, John gently lowered the head of the abomination against divinity to the ground, and brushed its eyes shut with his thumb. Like a man proud of his newly crafted birdhouse, John stood up and brushed his hands off each other. A short prayer escaped his lips.

ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod-

The part of him that wasn't drowning in seat soaking terror and panic hormones appreciated that he's made better ground in twelve seconds of unbridled horror than he had in who known how many hours of aimless wondering. The pink moon's pink moon winked at him through the treeline, mocking him. Or perhaps conspiring against him? Was it relaying his location to whatever reality-defiant monster is lurking under the leaf bed? No, that's silly. In fact, this whole thing is silly.

John's run slowed to a light jog, and still further, until he was resting against an alien tree and laughing. Why would anything chase him? It just ate. If anything, it should be running from him for being caught littering. Of course, that's exactly what happened and-

Something flitted passed the edge of his vision. Three narrow red rivers formed on his arm, and the sleeve of his shirt fell to the ground.

sweetfuckbucketingnoooooooo-

With an agility and strength he never knew he had, John threw himself up the tree, not stopping until perched precariously on the tallest branch that was more than inch thick. Quick now, what would McConaughey do? Probably take down the creature with a coordinated attack between a tank and a helicopter, but become overconfident and get eaten trying to kill a dragon with an axe.

John took a moment aside from his impending digestion at the fangs of alien wildebeests to reconsider his choice of role models.

The tree shook and trembled, then started to lean hazardously towards the ground. John prepared to jump off, but something struck him from behind before he could even start to prepare himself. The impact of the ground knocked all the wind from his lungs. Something warm pressed him against the leaf litter. Four wide, yellow eyes peer down at him with inquisitive hunger. Green (and by his reasoning probably acidic) saliva dripped from the lower of the creatures two mouths and onto his neck.

 

John groaned as his surroundings come into focus. Something must have knocked him out, and yet no part of him felt unusually sore. Flickering candles illuminated the red stone walls. The hides of all number of horrible looking creatures had been draped about the floor, each with the same, distinctive, three-clawed wounds he saw on the dead buffalyre head. Across every wall was crude paintings of animals being slain, incomprehensible maps of what he could only presume was the local area, and a never-ending matrix of faces, all painted with blood and ash. Even more unsettling was how many faces had been crossed out or smeared over, sometimes dozens at a time. Clearly he was dealing with a very intelligent and very dangerous predator. That it brought him here alive could only mean it was very sadistic as well.

Peering through the darkness, he could make out the silhouette of a figure. The light from the candles made its shadow dance across the blood-spattered walls, but refused to reveal its form. Two shaggy, sloth-like limbs reached up to its head. Something is pulled off, and flung to the ground. John stared into the wide, yellow eyes of the blue cat scalp. In the flickering flamelight they almost appear to be looking him up and down. It could only be a miracle that his captor didn't hear the bellowing 'NOPE' resounding inside his head.

While the creature seemed to be distracted, John made a clumsy attempt at standing up silently. He got as far as kneeling when a discarded bone snapped beneath his hand. The creature's head snapped towards the source of the sounds.

Rocketed by stress and lubricated with sweat, John scrambled down the fear slide on his hands and knees away from his captor. Away from the den, away from the cave and away from whatever nightmare he was trapped in.

Something fell on his back and knocked his limbs out from under him. Something pinned his hands to the ground when he tried to crawl away. Something breathed hot and sticky air against his ear.

ac can't believe how furtunate she is, to find such purrfect unsuspecting prey

The creature hissed into his ear, and gave his neck a playful nibble.

um....please don't eat me?

Yes John, good job. Ask the flesh eating monster nicely, surely it will be implored to reconsider. His would-be spiral of ruminations was cut short by the feeling of something cold and sharp pressed against the back of his neck.

ac can't wait to cut open her purrey, and see what it looks like under those smelly furs

John yelped in pain. Something like knives sliced down his back, one after the other. It felt...kind of like brushing passed a sharp table ledge, but it still hurt. There were a few more swipes, and John noticed the tingle of damp cave air touching his bare skin. With a growl of contentment, his captor peeled off his clothes strip by strip. His clothes...what were his clothes? Images of blue and green and white flashed across his mind, but exactly what he was wearing eluded him. No matter, whatever he was wearing just got tossed into a fire in the center of the cave. John shuddered as a warm breeze blew across the scratches on his buttocks.

His captor flipped him over, so as to better peel off the few bits off cloth stuck to his chest and loins. She was a lean girl, and with her grey skin and colorful horns John recognized her as a troll. She had the distinct muscles of a gymnast, or maybe a swimmer, or really anyone used to putting their entire body into everything they do. Her chest was almost completely flat, and each barely there breast was topped by a dark gray nipple but despite himself, what really drew John's attention was her abs. Each muscle cluster stood firm and distinct in the flickering fire light. A green-tinged bead of sweat trickled down between them in a jagged rivulet. John swallowed- his throat suddenly dry for unfathomable reasons. Her hand reached for his groin, her fingers almost tap danced their way to his exposed skylark. Primal panic met pubescent anxiety. Mustering all his might, John tried to throw her off. The moment he started to rise of the ground, she placed a hand against his chest and pinned him to the ground, not even looking up from the grand unveiling. For his part, John was baffled. After waving around hammers like they were air for so long, he'd thought himself strong, but this girl wasn't merely strong, this girl was STRONG. This cave dwelling savage had more vim than his mangrit could handle.

He might have been completely outclassed, but John continued to struggle all the harder, even if just out of sheer defiance. The grey-skinned girl on top of him grinned, revealing far more pearly knives than anything not already made of swords had any right to have. She swatted him on the nose, leaving a faint pain and an irksome itch. She raised her claw to her mouth and licked it. Inexplicably, she failed to slice her tongue open in the process, which at this point just seemed unfair discrimination on the claw's part. While he was stunned from the light blow, she took the chance to pounce on his groin, and tear away what little loincloth was left of his pants. Freed from captivity, his penis bobbed up and down in half-aroused confusion. The girl's dilated pupils tracked its movement back and forth in the dim cave light. She gave his penis a playful bat, and giggled when it bounced. It felt good in its own way, but the girl's expression kept John from fully appreciating the attention. The part where she was watching his penis like she's about to take a bite out of it an-

OH GOD SHE PUT IT IN HER MOUTH!

She sucked down on his dick like she was trying to draw water, and pulled her head back. Uncountable little sharp things scrape along his tender skin.

THAT'S WHERE HER TEETH ARE!!!!

She dragged her tongue along the underside of his shaft, and growled in amusement with every twitch of its length.

-#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#-

John Egbert's mind gave in and crashed, unable to handle all these conflicted values, all of which were far outside of legal parameters. The rest of him whimpered. Were it recorded and played back, at 1000x volume and 1% speed, it would sound akin to the cackling laughter of a lunatic.  
With purposeful grace, she crawled up John's body and nestled his dick between her taut thighs. Finally freed from rational thought, John's erection was no longer confused. All the blood his brain was no longer using stampeded to his groin, and forced his cock to rise to its limit, rubbing against the naked girl's pussy and making her hum in approval. The grey girl clenched her thighs together; pressing John's dick against her folds, and gently rocked her hips back and forth. Her hands grasped and pawed at John's naked chest, her nails, the ones that weren't deadly claws, left bright red marks as they scraped along his breastbone. There was no haste in her movements, no rush to orgasm or possibly even consideration, just doing something that happened to feel good. Back and forth she rubbed, tensing and relaxing her powerful thighs around his aching cock. Even the slightest movement on John's part was met with a dismissive swipe or a shifting of weight, leaving him immobile as she pleasured herself with his helpless body. Sometimes she leaned down to nibble on his neck, or to lick at his scratches. Her assisted masturbation lasted for ages, certainly longer than the boy's confused mind could track.

Just when the bizarre situation started to make sense to John, she spreads her legs and stood up. Green juices trickles down her shapely thighs, and John's throbbing erection was washed with the same. He thought the event might be over, but the moment John moved to stand the strange naked cave girl growled, and hisses until he lay back down. John had always had a funny relationship with his pride, and it was certainly not important enough to risk losing a pound of flesh, not like this.

Once assured of her prey's cooperation, the grey girl reached down and dips her hand into her cunt. She moaned quietly as her fingers probed around inside her, but she didn't indulge herself, and soon dragged her fingers back out, now stained with her olive juices. She hummed a discordant tune, and lowered herself back onto the naked boy. This time she took a moment to align their flesh, and lowered herself. His throbbing head parted her pussy and pushed into it. She relaxed her toned legs, and the rest of his shaft slipped inside of her. After being teased and toyed with by her for who knows how long, this crude insertion was enough to throw John overboard, mind and body.  
As soon as she noticed his orgasm, his hunter clenched. The full vaginal tension of a bored, lonely, and athletic cave dweller clutched his cock like dozens of powerful hands. He finished coming but remained, hard and unsatisfied, within her.

With her control reasserted, the grey girl leaned forward and touched one of the scratches on his chest. Through a haze of fatigue and arousal, John noticed that her hand was still slick with her dark-green fluid. She hummed and mumbled something and danced her pussy-drenched fingers across his body, painting long lines and jagged angles with her own lustful fluids. The smell was heavy and penetrative. John couldn’t have ignored it if he wanted to. If he knew nothing about it, it might have been unpleasant, but knowing he was being painted with her own love juices made the smell maddeningly enticing. Also maddening was the way she moved about his body. With every stroke and dot, her unbelievably fit pussy squeezed and massaged his dick like an expert masseuse. She didn't limit herself to arms reach; the troll girl leaned and stretched this way and that to reach any bit of his skin it took her fancy to adorn with herself. He wanted to buck, to thrust, to turn her over and fuck her into a mewling mess, but the sound of her hiss, the memory of her claws and his self-preservation forced him to lie perfectly still as she has her way with him.

When she put the finishing touches on his chest, John honestly couldn't tell if he was coming again or not. The agonizing, rocking pleasure in his loins ebbed and flowed with her irregular painting speed. It felt skull-numbingly good though, and at this point that was all that mattered to him. She reached down and mopped up some of her spilled pussy juice with her fingers. Not the first time she'd needed to top up her 'brush' and certainly not the last. She then started work on Johns face, beginning with a gob of green, roughly smeared across his lips. She hisses his tongue away the moment it peeks out to steal a lick. She painted around his eyes, and his cheeks and his brow, leaning forward to reach his face and neck, leaning back to gather more of her drippings, as well as to playfully tease the base of his shaft- The whole time, her every movement is accompanied by a quiet pant, or a soft growl.

When she's done painting his face, the cave girl placed her hands on John's hips and smiled at her masterpiece. John could barely even see from all the musk and pheromones pervading every one if his bodily senses. He’d swear even her husky mewling was carrying some chemical or hormone, or at least he would if his brain was in any state to think about something more complicated than the girl wrapped around his penis.

The troll girl, satisfied with her work, started bouncing with glee. She held herself steady against his pelvis and for the first time all night, she fucked her captive in earnest. She laughed and moaned and yowled in that high, husky voice of hers, and John wondered if he might lose his mind forever at the hands of this adorabloodthirsty creature. It didn't take long for the huntress to get off. Her cunt seized up around John's dick with a death grip. She dug her nails into his hips and yowled like the moon was invading her territory and spilled her green trollcum all over John's groin. She slid off of John, her whole torso heaving with every breath, and took John’s dick eagerly into her mouth. Awash with the fluids of his earlier orgasms and her own, his aching cock easily slides all the way down her throat. She looked up with her yellow troll eyes, smiled, and began swallowing around his dick. The feel of her pulsing throat muscles rubbing against his length was the leaf that made John's dam burst. Covered in her juices, drowning in her scent and with his dick down her throat, John's whole body shook as his orgasm took hold. Jets of warm white cum spurted down the girl's throat, which she greedily swallowed down without so much as a cough. Three, four, five times he flooded her mouth, and five times she swallowed every last drop of him.  
When he was finally finished, she pulled her mouth off him with a pop, and broke into a frenzied giggle. Before he could even start to question, she slunk up alongside him and brought his head in for a kiss. The mingling of her taste and his was both intoxicating and sobering for his sex-addled mind.

ac was pawsitive her prey would be delicious, but it tasted even better than she'd dared hope.

She gave a delicate cough, clearing her throat of lingering cum.

My name's Nepeta, nice to meet you. I hope you dream about me again.

John awoke with a scream and scrambled to his feet, the image of the smiling troll girl's dead white eyes already burning into his brain. His whole body was drenched in sweat, and his groin was sticky with three dreams worth of ejaculate.

That was the trouble with the dreambubbles. If you forget you're dreaming, everything becomes too real.


End file.
